As the sun began its descent towards the horizon, casting long shadows across the landscape, Daisuke and Kotoba stood beside the makeshift grave of their mother. The air was heavy with silence, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze.
Daisuke knelt down beside the grave, his hands resting on the freshly turned earth. He couldn't bring himself to look directly at Kotoba, the weight of their newfound knowledge pressing heavily on his shoulders. With a deep breath, he finally spoke, his voice strained with emotion.
"I didn't want to bury her near the house," Daisuke's words hung in the air, the weight of their meaning settling over them like a heavy shroud. Kotoba nodded in silent understanding, his eyes downcast.
The silence stretched on, each moment feeling like an eternity as they both grappled with the enormity of what they had learned. Daisuke broke the silence once more, his voice soft yet concerned.
"I still don't know whether we should tell Makoto we know the truth. I don't know if that would give us closure or reopen wounds we didn't know we had."
Kotoba remained silent, his thoughts swirling in a tempest of confusion and anger. He couldn't fathom the depths of his emotions, the raw pain of loss mingling with the seething rage at the injustice of it all.
"Now that I know we are brothers," Daisuke continued, his voice steady despite the turmoil raging within him, "I'm going to tell you what's going on."
Kotoba looked up, meeting Daisuke's gaze with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.
"Your old master, the one you called Mizu, his name is Raidon," as Daisuke spoke, each syllable felt evermore heavier by the gravity of their meaning. "He's a member of a newly formed Deadly Seven. He's responsible for the death of Tōsō and Genji... Sakutarō's father and younger brother."
Kotoba's fists clenched at his sides, his jaw tight with barely contained fury. The revelation was like a blow to the chest, the pain of loss and betrayal threatening to consume him.
"That's why Sakutarō has begun taking his training a lot more seriously," Daisuke continued, the sadness evident within his voice. "That's why I brought you in, because I know you can push him to his limits."
Kotoba nodded, his resolve hardening with each passing moment. He couldn't change the past, but he could honor the memory of his fallen comrades by becoming stronger, by fighting for justice in their name.
"As for me," Daisuke's voice faltered for a moment, his gaze drifting towards the distant horizon, "when we return, I'll start my training. I won't be able to see you during that time... any of you. I hope it will be worth it in the end."
With a heavy heart, Daisuke turned away from the grave and began to walk towards the waiting horses. Kotoba followed silently behind, his mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions.
They mounted their horses, each thinking of their shared burden as they set off on their journey back to the village.
As they rode, the surroundings blurred into a hazy backdrop, their thoughts consumed by a myriad of what-ifs. Time seemed to slip through their fingers like grains of sand, leaving them disoriented and adrift in a sea of uncertainty.
Before they knew it, the familiar sights and sounds of their village greeted them once more, snapping them out of their reverie. The village seemed unchanged, its bustling streets and quaint houses a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within their hearts.
Daisuke led the horses towards Hōkai's house. Kotoba followed silently behind, his expression unreadable as he grappled with the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him.
"Go on, Kotoba. Get inside and get some rest," Daisuke's voice broke through the silence, his words tinged with concern.
Kotoba hesitated for a moment, his eyes locked on Daisuke's face as if searching for answers in the depths of his gaze.
"Come on. You need to rest before you continue your training tomorrow," Daisuke urged gently, his tone soft but firm.
With a shake of the head, Kotoba climbed down from the horse, his movements sluggish as if weighed down by the burden of their shared revelation. Without a word, he turned towards the house and disappeared inside, leaving Daisuke alone in the gathering darkness.
Taking a deep breath, Daisuke squared his shoulders and made his way towards Makoto's house. Each step felt heavy with the weight of his thoughts, his mind racing with a thousand questions and doubts.
As he approached the familiar wooden door, he paused for a moment, his hand hovering uncertainly in the air. With a steadying breath, he pushed the door open and stepped inside, steeling himself for whatever lay ahead.
"Daisuke." Makoto called out from another room.
"Is everything okay? I heard about what happened. About the giant Titanaboa. You must have been incredible."
"His name was Chen. Well, Jigoku, but his real name was Chen." Daisuke added.
"He must have been formidable. To acquire a Summon like that... he must have also been on the brink of insanity."
"He's a member of the Deadly Seven."
"The Deadly Seven? What do you mean the Deadly Seven?"
"The Deadly Seven has been reformed. The person I killed was a part of their group. As is Raidon."
"I can't believe it. The Deadly Seven were created to bring peace... not this."
"Their Leader is... Mishiira Kayoshide."
Makoto looked stunned, as if Daisuke were seeing him stuck in time.
"That's... that's impossible." Makoto forced his sentence out his mouth.
"I know. I have no idea what the hell is going on. But you told me that you saw Mishiira die, yet now I'm hearing he has reformed the group you were part of in an attempt to kill us."
"It must be a lie. Or, an imposter."
"On top of that, his personal bodyguards are stronger than the new members of the Deadly Seven."
"We need to get to the bottom of this. This has gotten a lot more personal for me."
"Personal..."
"Huh? Did you say something?"
"Speaking of personal... Makoto... why did you lie about my mother?"